Did you scream enough to make him cry?
by renabop
Summary: "'LEAVE ME BE' I sobbed out, feeling the pain intensify. Then, suddenly, the monster left. Left me alone, with an empty feeling. The walls left, the floor left, the voices left. I was completely alone, and I wanted him back." M for naughty things.
1. Chapter 1

**Long-Ass-Authors note: Hey guys, I know it's been a while since I've written, but I got an idea for another story. Fair word of warning, it includes dark Cartman, teen drinking, mischief, rape, insanity, and man-on-man lovin'. So, don't come complaining to me if you are offended. I do not own South Park, though if I did, it would be pretty fucked up. Also, I don't know what pairings yet, and this will probably be a LOOONG story, with a bit of time in between updates. Sorry, it's just that I have school and stuff, you know.**

I had always been curious about things. Even as a child, I felt the need to explore everything. Hell, I started cussing at the innocent age of 7, just to see what it felt like to have forbidden words escape my lips.

Of course, there are some things I do not want to know about, no matter how the sin of curiosity seduces me.

Like what rape felt like.

Or how betrayal can break you, what it can do to you.

What it felt like to go crazy.

But, all these things have yet to happen when my story starts, at the tender age of 16, the start of sophomore year around the corner.

The summer, although passing through quickly, was still leaving its trace on the weather. We were still having weather in the 70's well into September, something uncommon for South Park.

It was unusually cool that day, and we were all hanging out in Stan's tree house (amazingly it was still up). The breeze whispered through, rustling my now tamed (well, better than it was 4 years ago) hair along.

In fact, we have all changed more than we like to admit.

Stan, the kid everyone thought to become the school jock, had come to look like an "after" picture from a "don't do drugs" picture. At the age of 12, his parents split up for good. He didn't exactly take it well, shockingly. He started off with letting the toxic poison of a substance most teens know all too well slide past his lips. Alcohol had poisoned his mind, taking over his world. Sure, he had been drunk before, at a party, or hanging with the guys. But it was different this way. More forbidden, eviler. I suppose he loved the effect enough to start other things. First alcohol, then heroine, meth…. Who knows what else? His already average grades sunk, he broke any relationship he had, and eventually I stopped trying to help. I know it wasn't the right thing to do, but I couldn't stand being around him anymore. He was just so… depressing.

Cartman had stopped hanging out with us in 9th grade, him and Kenny splitting off from the group. He started wearing dark clothes, the color of crimson blood accessorizing nearly every outfit he wore. He started getting into trouble, more than normal. By the age of 16, he had gotten arrested for stealing 5 times, drug dealing 3 times, and even was a suspect in a murder case once. Of course, he never got jail time (what did you expect, it's Cartman.), pulling invisible strings every time he got in trouble. There was even a rumor that he fucked the judge to get off, once. He always tried to brush the gay rumors off, but there was no way him and Kenny weren't at least fuck buddies. He'd even changed in appearance, he was still really big, and most definitely not skinny or buff, but he got taller, and his arm muscles built up enough to give him a "Don't even THINK of messing with me, asshole" vibe.

He started spiking his hair to a half Mohawk. Tattoos covered his body, and he looked pretty menacing.

Kenny's family won the lottery in 8th grade, believe it or not. It wasn't a mega million jackpot, but it was enough to make his family one of the richest in town, right after token of course. Kenny didn't care, though. He seemed to love playing the "rich playboy who was nothing but trouble" for a long time. Hell, he wore suit coats to school. That didn't last long, though. Eventually, he realized that, as much as it seemed awesome, he hated being rich. All he ever got in life was handed to him, and his parents still spent all their money on drugs and alcohol. He started to drink, sell his body, anything that would piss off his parents enough for them to care. Everyone could see that it wasn't going to work, but it doesn't mean he stopped trying. Him and Cartman constantly got into trouble. He never stopped wearing his hoodie (apart from the suit phase) though, he did pull it off his face now, revealing a chiseled, handsome face, with messy blonde hair and striking blue eyes. And, he only had a small amount of acne covering his face. Needless to say, he didn't have trouble getting business.

As for myself, I hadn't changed much. My hair stopped being a jew-fro when I was about 12, turning into a coppery-red mess of curls sitting on top of my head. I had green eyes, and slightly pale skin, with a couple of teenager-hormone-induced pimples speckling my face. It wasn't serious, but it annoyed me quite a bit. I wasn't the best looking dude, but most definitely not the ugliest. I have had a couple of girlfriends over the years, though it always ended well, with me claiming "It just wasn't working out". Before you jump to conclusions, though, I have already wondered if I was gay, and I was never quite sure. That's probably not normal for most guys, but I'm not most guys. I have stayed the good-little-poopsikins that I have always been, if not just to bear my mother the pain of seeing me crumple like all the other people in my "gang of friends from when I was little". When I was 11, my mom caught my dad cheating on her with his secretary. They had a long break, and it put a long strain on our family, but eventually she forgave him. Although, I still see her crying every once and a while. After Stan started drinking, among other things, Wendy and I became best friends. I think it was partially his falling apart that made us come together. I know it's wrong, but I'm kind of glad it happened, because if it didn't, Wendy and I would not be best friends.

Anyway, back to the story.

"You guys. I have something really important to say, but it needs to be in person." Cartman had said over the phone. Yet it had been an hour, and Cartman still wasn't here.

Where was he?

**Long-ass-bottom-authors note: So, I know it's not long, and not very interesting, but I needed to set the story up. Don't worry, a lot of interesting shit will happen later on. Please review, although flames will be used to burn the haters ( mwahahaha :] ) And so I leave you with a south park quote:**

**"You Sir, have mocked Cartman before, and you shall not do it again, now sit down and Damn You let him speak!"**

**"…. Thank you Clyde."**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **_** Okay, So I know that no one actually reviewed this, and I kind of have a policy for at least 1 review to move on to the next chapter, but I think this story has potential. So... yeah. UPDATE! :D**_

**_In this chapter Kyle gets *ahem* __raped..._**

_**You have been warned!**_

"That's It, I'm leaving. See ya, assholes." Kenny climbed over to the small doorframe of the treehouse, dropping down the ladder. I looked after him, wondering if I should do the same.

"Yeah, I'm gonna..." Stan's voice trailed off like that now a lot, almost finishing his sentences, but not quite. "It's been 3 hours...Cartman isn't...showing." He sounded almost in pain to speak. It killed me to see him in this shape.

After Stan went to his new house and Kenny left, I sighed after about 5 minutes, and climbed down.

_Cartman, you asshole. _I sighed, feeling the familiar pinch of annoyance in my chest. Although, this time it had a slight trace of worry mixed in.

_Where are you? _I thought, knowing he couldn't hear me.

I headed onto the sidewalk, walking towards my house.

In order to get to my house, you had to cut through our small central square of our small mountain town.

The town seemed to mature as we did, loosing it's child-like innocence. It had grown, and was almost close to becoming a proper town now.

No one knew the new residents anymore, and people slipped in and out of town all the time, unnoticed.

Some of the times they were travelers, sometimes they stayed.

The town was dirtier, sketchier. No one trusted 8 year olds to run around town nowadays.

Luckily my mom allowed me to, despite putting up a fuss about it.

I kicked a empty soda can, it skidded to a stop in front of an alley. I loved kicking rocks and litter in order to pass the time while walking home. My and Stan used to do it while walking to my house for a sleepover. It was almost like a personal game between us two.

**_"Whoever can kick it all the way to Kyle's is the winner!" Stan's young voice laughed shrilly._**

**_"Wow, you guys are so childish. We're 11 now, we can't play silly games." Cartman scowled. Kenny shook his head._**

**_"Whatever, you guys are no fun." Stan shook his head, and looked over to me, scooting a rock over towards my foot._**

**_"Um... dude, I kinda agree. I mean, we did that when we were 8, and now we're in 6th grade."_**

**_Stan blushed and looked away._**

**_"Yeah, I guess you're right."_**

**_We walked on in silence._**

The memory swam through my mind.

_I should have kicked the damn rock. _I thought bitterly. _Not that it would change anything_, I reminded myself. _Stan wouldn't still be here if you kicked a stupid rock, asswipe. Neither would Cartman._

A hand clamped over my mouth, interrupting my thoughts.

_What the fuck?_

"Don't say anything. Or I swear to God, I will shoot." I felt the cold metal on my temple, I'm sure it was glinting in the moonlight.

My heart raced, not really keeping pace with my thoughts.

_Oh. my. Fucking. God. _My mind screamed. _Some maniac is holding a gun to my head. Kick, scream, punch DO SOMETHING. _But I couldn't. I couldn't move, aside from trembling.

"Oh, is the little babah scared? Wanna **scream** about it?" He jabbed the gun farther into my head.

Wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait. I know that accent. Only one person I know has that fucking accent.

**Oh. My. FUCK.**

_What the fuck._

All of my thoughts shut down, I couldn't breath.

_Why the fuck does Cartman have a **gun** to my head?_

"Now listen, kid. I'm gonna let go, and you ahren't gonnah mahke a sound. Undahstood?" He whispered into my ear. I could smell the cheesy poofs on his breath, wafting into my nose.

I could have turned around, I could have kicked him in the balls, I could have bit his hand. But I didn't. Why?

He let go of my face, keeping me faced towards the brick wall in the alleyway he had dragged me into.

"What should ah do to yew?" He slurred. I smelt something else on his breath... alcohol. "Should I kill yew? Or should ah..." his voiced trailed off. He seemed to think for a while, tapping a finger to his chin.

"Ah **got **it. I'll have you, just like my father did to me when ah was your age!" He seemed to have deeper accent slipping out from underneath, sounding more like a deranged older man than his teenage boy accent.

My mind reeled, confused. I couldn't think straight.

"You already have me..." I stated, confused as to what he was saying.

He laughed, chuckling in a disturbed way.

"How cute, you're so innocent. I guess you won't be when I'm done, though. You'll be as fucked up as I am." He laughed again, all traces of Cartman's accent gone, replaced by the voice of a deranged man.

I furrowed my brow, still confused.

He moved his hand off of my arm, trailing it down to my pants.

I gasped, and he gave a snort.

I finally got it, understanding what he meant.

**Fuck. **_Cartman's going to _**_rape_**_ me. What the fuck is going on? _My eyes widened.

He moved his hand over my crotch, unzipping my jeans.

I felt a small twitch in my own member.

He started, surprised. Then he laughed again.

"Oh you're almost as sick as me. Do you actually **enjoy **this?" He shook his head. "Well we can't have that, can we?"

He grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling hard.

I gasped once again, grinding my teeth.

Hot tears spilled over my eyes, streaming down my face.

He ripped my jeans down, and I stomped on his foot.

"**Ouch! **That **hurt**, you little fuck." He pulled harder on my hair.

He ripped my boxers down, sending a small shiver up my spine. It was freezing out, now that the sun was almost down. I felt the cool breeze on my own member.

He grabbed it, pumping it up and down, but this time I got no pleasure. I gritted my teeth again, tears coming faster than before.

"Whatever. I was trying to help you get it up, but I guess that's not worth it." I could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

He shoved his finger in my opening, making me emit a small whine.

"SHUT UP." he hissed into my ear.

I closed my mouth, biting my tongue in order to be quiet.

He slid another finger in, making me clench. I tasted the blood in my mouth.

Suddenly he took them out, and let go of my hair, stepping on my pants in order to keep me there.

He spit on his hands, lubricating them up.

Suddenly, I darted away, trying to step out my pants. I failed.

I crashed to the ground, my mouth now bleeding profusely. He growled, squatting down so that I could see his face, menacing and smirking.

Definitely Cartman.

He kicked my nose from an upright position

"Oh you fuck. Now sit still this time, or I'll kick your teeth in. Besides, it's not like you're gonna escape , kid." He finished with his member. "You're lucky I'm lubing it up, otherwise it would hurt worse."

He grabbed me from underneath, pulling me to all fours. My tears splashed the cement below, mixed in with my blood.

He slowly got in position. He grabbed my ass, smacking it with the other hand. I gasped.

Without warning, I felt him push into me. He was shallow at first, then sped up.

Oh god it hurt. Oh GOD it fucking hurt.

He moaned a while, and grabbed my own hanging member, giving it a small squeeze.

After what seemed like hours to me, but probably was only a minute or so, he came deep inside me. His semen mixed with my blood, leaking out from my opening.

He got up and wiped himself off, zipped up his pants, and cleaned himself up.

He started to walk away, but stopped on the way out. He leaned down to my face, lifting it up to his eyes.

Underneath Cartman's face I could almost make out other facial features... A nose that wasn't his, and eyes of a different color.

"Remember me, sweetheart." He smirked "Remember me as the man who fucked up your childhood, who fucked your fragile little mind up. Remember me the way that I remember my father, as the evil in your life." He laughed again, then let my head go to slap against the cement.

All I remember from then on was a boot swinging towards my face, and then blackness.

**I'm so sorry you had to read that piece of crap. :P**

**So, I tried to put in little hints of something not being right in this. Hopefully you caught them, if not, you should probably get your IQ checked.**

**Also, I've never written about rape before, so please do flame all you want.**

**PLEASE REVIEW! Please?**

**Here's some dialogue:**

**Stan – Tango tango! I'm in position.**

**Kyle- Copy tango. Clear vantage point?**

**(guys i'm so freaking excited for the new episode! :D )**


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